A Year of Memories, Monday Memories
Although World War I was long past by the time I entered the world in October 1937, that ubiquitous poster commands a spot in my memory. Uncle Sam’s accusing finger pointed straight at me. His bushy brows, long hair, goateed chin, and intent countenance mesmerized me....
A Year of Memories, Life lessons, Monday Memories
I didn’t appreciate that my older cousins were kind enough to take me fishing with them. I sulked because they didn’t give me a new, shiny reel and rod. My cousins, Dolores and Phyllis Fitzsimmons and Jack Powell, had arranged for the girls to come from their...
A Year of Memories, Monday Memories
Missing my senior athletic banquet cost me my job. I’d acquired a severe case of poison ivy—so severe that my arms and body dripped fluid from open sores. I was a mess, and so embarrassed and uncomfortable that I didn’t attend Barneveld High School’s spring athletic...
A Year of Memories, Monday Memories, Real life characters
I adored my Grandmother Stephens-Fitzsimons. My first memories with her were at The Pike, an amusement park in Long Beach, California. We’d get on the bus and head down to the ocean for a day of fun rides, a picnic on the beach, and for me, enjoyable moments...
A Year of Memories, Monday Memories
A sliver of light tinted the horizon. We awoke in our tent, shivering from the freezing cold. The door flap had been ripped open, and the gale-force wind, blowing from the west, whipped it back and forth. Fresh snow that piled everywhere blew into the tent through the...
A Year of Memories, Monday Memories
The only thing that my mother (Catherine n my O’Shaughnessy stories) loved more than tending her flowers, like I describe In this short story, was her annual Memorial Day visits to put those flowers on her family gravesites. I write about Catherine agonizing over...
